My temper starts to simmer, along with the water I put on the burners. Why is it every guy I’m with wants to pull me away from what I’m doing? Don’t they understand this is an integral part of my job. I plop the shortening into the well. “There’s tradition to consider,” I point out as I start working the mix. “My grandma and mom rolled out tortillas every morning since before I was born. I won’t be the one to change that.”
He gives a single nod. “Good enough.”
With those two words, he goes on like nothing happened. I’m left to muffle the resentment I feel sometimes, trying to make all this work. He has no idea I moved in upstairs to give myself more time. I saved a couple of hours a day by not having to drive across town to get to and from work. After a quick shower, I come downstairs and start my day.
The pot of water appears at the edge of my workspace. “Here you go,” he says, putting it down before reaching for the other one. After the second round, he returns to his laptop.
It’s such a small thing, but nobody’s ever just seen what has to be done and lent a hand. Annoyance fades into confusion. What am I supposed to think?
“I had to reschedule the installation of the last two cameras since it started raining,” he explains. “They’ll cover the door and the areas immediately past the building.”
I pour water into the mix, letting my autopilot kick in while I try to gather my thoughts. Who is he expecting? Because all this has to be costing someone a chunk of money. He said all that mattered is him getting the guy he’s after. Should I worry? Is he tracking a regular customer? Someone going to the church?
“I can switch the views on the stairs and the storage room so the new cameras are on the primary screen,” he suggests, his gaze flicking from one part of the monitor to another.
“Um…” I stop halfway to picking up the water. I shouldn’t worry about stock, not with Manny. Yet the minute he mentioned that camera, a lump started forming in my throat.
“What’s wrong?”
“Think we can keep the view of the storage room?” I catch my bottom lip between my teeth. Once bitten, twice shy.
He frowns. “You’ve had problems there?”
My pulse is pounding at my temples. “Yes.” I swallow before I can even begin to form a sentence.
He pauses, his attention focused squarely on me.
“The guy I fired…” I hitch a shoulder. “I caught him about to help himself to the stock.”
He nods once. “Done,” he says, letting his gaze run over my body before returning to the laptop.
I grab the pot handle, pouring before I start kneading the masa. Part of me wants to say something but I’m not sure what I’d say. I’ve had to deal with everything from mean whining about me leaving so I can get some sleep to jealousy because of the time and attention I give my job. Somehow, they all seem to miss the fact that even if the place is small, it’s a business, and it’s mine.
Tino seems to understand, and it blows my mind. He asks questions and digests the answers instead of trying to find a way to work around them. I don’t even know what to think. Saul was nothing like that. Of course, he also thought it was okay to take all the money I had in my account. I blow out a breath. I’m going to have to buckle down and find him. He may not realize it, but I need the money now more than ever. Along with one hell of an explanation.
*****
Bunny
My phone beeps, flashing a message from an unfamiliar number among the array of tomatoes.
My thumb hovers over the black banner as I try to identify the tiny image at the right. No, he didn’t… After a second of indecision, I open the message to find two rather skimpy-looking thongs against a familiar bedspread.
I press my lips together, shooting an angry gaze to the camera pointed in my general direction.
You’re going to scare customers with that expression.
Of course he’s watching. Despite my annoyance, a little thrill flutters behind my chest.
Ping. What color do you like?
I return to the screen, studying the items. Black and red in a simple, silky material you won’t find at a superstore. I let him see the curve at the corner of my lips as I reply to his message. White and green, with lace. I hit send as the bell above the door announces a customer.
“Hi, Miss Bonnie.” Junior, one of the few kids living at the edge of the commercial area, greets me with an expectant smile.
“How’re you doing?” I pocket my phone and head behind the counter to get his weekly haul.
“Good,” he says a little too quickly.
I do some quick math in my head, round up, and pull a ten-dollar bill from the register. For a kid living with an elderly grandfather on social security, the extra money from the Mexican gum packets comes in handy. The twelve-year-old has been an entrepreneur about as long as I have. And he’s probably more successful.
“How are you?” he asks. His gaze follows the bill in my hand as I walk back to him and hand it over.
The white-knuckle grip only confirms the suspicion. My heart goes out to him. We had a lot to deal with when I was a kid, but there was always food on the table. I’m glad I added a little more, despite still having some of the gum in the cabinet. “Hey, would you like a taco?”
He hesitates. Pride, embarrassment, or goodness knows what else flashes across his face.
“Bean and chorizo?” Over the past few months I’ve learned it’s his favorite.
He nods.
“Okay.” I point to the nearest stool. “Grab a seat and I’ll get it for you.”
He climbs onto the stood. “Um, I have to go check on my grandpa.”
“All right.” I smile with reassurance. “I won’t be long.” Going into the kitchen, I turn to Manny. “Can you get me two bean and chorizo on flour, to go.” Better to add an extra because he’s probably running home to split the taco.
“Got it.” He nods, closing a Styrofoam container.
“Noah’s still out?”
“Yeah,” he tosses over his shoulder as he works the grill. “And we got a couple more deliveries waiting.”
I check the tags on the thermal bags. One goes to Bridge I, and the other is an office building. “Hmmm.” I back up, poking my head through the door. “Junior, you interested in making a couple of bucks while Manny gets your taco?”
The kid’s eyes grow huge. “Heck yeah.”
I bring out the delivery. “Can you deliver an order at Bridge I?”
“Sure.” He practically launches himself off the stool.
“These are plates,” I warn. “So you can’t toss the bag around.”
“Okay.” He nods as I hand him the bag.
“Go across the plaza and along the sidewalk to the offices and ask for Mr. Valdez.” I show him the name on the ticket. “When you deliver, you pull the plates by the handles on the plastic bag they’re in and keep them steady.”
“I won’t spill,” he assures me before taking the bag and heading for the door.
The Bridge offices are four blocks away, and the sidewalk skirts the incoming lanes from Mexico. Still, a reminder couldn’t hurt. “Be careful with traffic.”
If only I had the money…I cut off the thought. I need to call Saul again. Likely this thing with us was all a mistake. He didn’t notice what bank account he was using when he paid off the card. When he left, he’d said the typical “I’ll always be here for you” crap. Except when it comes to returning a phone call. I take a deep breath. At this point, he’s undeniably the worst mistake of my life.
I head to the sink to wash my hands so I can pitch in. I’m two steps from the storage room when Rick, Nuevo Laredo’s hunkiest delivery guy, steps out, nearly crashing into me. “Oh good-goodness,” I stammer. Here he is, less than a foot away, his handsome face looking down at me like a man who’s just caught the biggest fish of his life…
Where’s the racing pulse? Where’s the excitement at seeing him? Where’s the toe-curling moment I expected the next tim
e I saw him? Disappointment coats my insides. I inadvertently spent the last of my money on a mani-pedi and waxing so I could ask this guy on a date. Now, I’d completely forgotten he was going to be by today.
“Hi, Bonnie.” Rick graces me with his practiced smile. He leans a forearm against the doorframe, shifting to a relaxed stance that’s probably gotten him laid more than once.
Last week, I fully planned to be the next one on that list. Now I’m wanting to put some room between us without being too conspicuous.
“Hey, Rick.”
It’s what happens when your little world is confined to the walls of a café. Once upon a time, I used to go shopping for groceries. I hit the farmer’s market when it was first organized. I also went into Nuevo Laredo for some of our goods. All of that is impossible now, with Grandma gone and Mom taking an early retirement. Now I order delivery on what we need.
“I was just dropping off your order.” He motions toward the room behind him. “Manny said Sergio’s gone, so I took care of putting everything away for you,” he says, handing me a clipboard.
“Sorry you had to go to the trouble. We’ve been a little busy.”
According to Sergio, he had to do the stocking because Rick would complain about having to come in. He doesn’t look like he’s upset at all. Is he acting differently because I’m a female? Was Sergio a jerk to him…or lying to me? How much of what I handed off for Sergio to put away went home with him? And what else did he lie about?
“No trouble at all, Bonnie.” The thousand-watt smile makes an appearance. “It’s a small order this time.”
“Is it?” The order looks about the same as always, maybe one or two things short. Now I’m wondering if Sergio had been padding the orders.
Rick sticks a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “You getting everything you need, Bonnie?”
Yeah, he said it like that. I look up as his gaze runs across the front of my apron. Not the first time a guy does that. In fact, I put a logo across the front of my aprons so I could tell myself they were reading the bib. But this time things are different. Tino happened. And he may be watching this camera—full screen. Just what I need. My…lover watching me with the guy I’d been lusting after a few days ago. Was I giving off vibes? Can Rick tell? More importantly, can Tino tell? And, should I care?
I retreat a step, putting a little more room between us. I wet my bottom lip as I double-check the clipboard.
“You’re low on chile pods for your delicious homemade mole,” he says, leaving the statement in the air, probably expecting me to agree.
I go through the list again, concentrating on the items. What else could he have possibly seen we’re missing?
“And you’re out of the pickled carrots.”
Ahhh. In an instant it’s Sunday night, and I’m staring at the dark dining room, gasping. I’m on my tiptoes, Tino’s cock filling me for the first time. One of the green sandals is tearing away as he thrusts inside me, hard enough to nearly knock me off the box. I didn’t gain my balance until the end…when I’m weak and fulfilled.
I snap back to reality. I’m standing here, fantasizing about sex with Tino while talking to Rick. “Um, yes-yes.” I’m too flustered to think of an excuse. How I could have used so many carrots so soon? I glance over toward Manny, hoping he’ll offer some sort of distraction. But no, he’s busy with the orders. “They-ah, they were gone in a flash.”
“Could you use some more?” he asks, without needing an explanation.
The heat of embarrassment creeps up my neck. There’s no way he can know what happened on those carrots. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know.
The phone vibrates in my back pocket. I don’t have to pull my phone to know it’s Tino. I can almost feel him standing behind me, his hard body supporting mine.
“Bonnie?”
I have to pull myself together. “Um, I’ll go ahead and add some for this weekend’s order.”
“Sounds good.”
His smile comes into play again, and I try not to squirm where I’m standing. “You want them the same as the last batch?”
I swallow hard, my smile is a little more brittle than what I would’ve hoped for. “Yeah...yes. Just like the last ones.”
*****
Tino
The screen changes, showing a call coming from Dante. “Hey?”
“You got cameras in the building.” Dante’s statement is somewhere between incredulous and curious.
“I got cameras in the building,” I confirm. Which is really what he’s looking for.
“How the hell did you manage that?”
Is that a sliver of amusement in his voice?
“How about you log on to the conference port,” Kassy interrupts.
“I thought we weren’t meeting this week.” Sitting up, I pull the laptop over from beside me, opening the link to our usual video conference before shutting down the phone. Considering we’re going to discuss Bunny at some point, I plug in the earbuds.
Dante and Kassy appear on the screen, while the final slot is filled with a camera icon.
The corner of Dante’s lips twitch. “Ah. Now I see how you got in.”
“Pardon me,” Montoya says, making his presence known.
Kassy raises an eyebrow.
“Tino’s got an interesting background for today’s meeting,” he explains to Montoya.
Damn. I should have moved to the living room instead of leaning against the girly pillows on Bunny’s bed.
Montoya pops onto the screen, startling the others. Despite having state-of-the-art equipment at the ranch, he doesn’t bother to use the camera on his computer. His gaze moves low on the corner of the monitor.
“You were able to come to a mutual agreement with the young lady.”
Damn gray-haired bastard. His second-sight thing, or whatever, bothers the hell out of me. Still, does he know more than he should about our setup?
“What agreement?” Dante frowns.
“He played hero,” Kassy adds. Her cat, Princess something or other, jumps into her lap with a meow of disapproval.
“You didn’t mention this.” Dante stares into the monitor, demanding an explanation.
“It had nothing to do with why you sent me here.”
Dante’s unmoved.
Annoyed, I give him a recap of what happened on Sunday.
“Well done,” Montoya adds. “Your decision to help her set things on the right path.”
Again, the creep factor slithers over me.
“So this has nothing to do with Conrado or his mother.” Dante looks thoughtful.
“Neither of the guys was Conrado.” Unfortunately, that’s the only thing I can confirm.
Montoya nods. “The security system will work twofold.”
“Exactly.” I turn to Dante. “We’re still with the original plan. Kassy watches during the day while Frank is parked down the street. I’m downstairs at night. The marshal is across town, and I have a team sitting at the store.”
Dante starts tapping his fingers on the desk. He’s been anxious to get his hands on Conrado Villa after what he’d been doing to Iris. “Nothing from any of your contacts?”
“Not yet. These things can take time.” Because the piece of shit is insignificant, I don’t have anyone with contact to him. “This is the only place with confirmed traffic that will lead us to him.”
“But she hasn’t been there,” Dante counters.
“From what you said, Olga comes here several times a week,” I remind him. “Why? Why is she downtown?”
“I checked the area,” Kassy explains, “in case she’s working close by, but I got nothing.”
“They have to be living across the border.” Anyone with money can pay cash and lie low with little effort.
“I haven’t seen either of them coming across the checkpoint.” Kassy scrunches her nose. “Of course, for being the government, their cameras suck. I don’t know why I bothered hacking into the feed.”
“And no
thing at Iris’s store?” I ask, in general.
“Nothing.” Kassy smirks. “Though I did send another two guys over.”
I raise a brow. “What? Why?”
“You aren’t around, and Iris is there by herself,” Dante reports in a dry tone.
“You let her go by herself?” Even with security, Dante hasn’t let her go too far. He isn’t willing to give Conrado a chance to get to her. Yet, he insisted I had to be the one to watch the café.
“Of course not.” He sits forward in his leather chair. “But the construction crew hasn’t finished remodeling the office, and I have work to do.”
“She sent him hoooome.” Her lips twitch. “And I didn’t have to read her lips to figure it out,” she adds in a mock whisper.
Dante glares through the screen, lip curled. “I need privacy so I can touch base with a client in California.”
“Of course,” Montoya concedes, though he sounds more like he’s offering an escape.
Kassy sits forward and the cat jumps off, her tail all bushy in annoyance.
“What’s wrong?” Dante and I ask.
“Something’s up, but I’m not sure what,” Kassie says, leaning in to focus on a screen.
“Explain.” I pick up my phone, logging into the system.
“There’s a guy downstairs,” Kassy explains. “And Bonnie’s acting weird.”
The camera feed shows Bunny holding the clipboard to her chest, taking a step back from him. Is it for safety’s sake?
“At first I thought, you know, maybe there was a thing between them.” She hitches a shoulder. “But it doesn’t look that way. This isn’t like the other guys drooling over her. She usually laughs it off and goes about her business.”
I study the bastard. Both hands are visible, one on the wall, the other at his waist. He’s wearing a button shirt, tucked into his jeans. No sign of weapons at the belt or even a decent pocketknife.
Who is he? Frowning, I take in the view from a wider perspective. While Bonnie is putting some space between them, he seems to think he’s some kind of ladies’ man.
Saving Bonnie: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 2) Page 7
